This one small place beyond a stranger’s gaze
Here
where the moon’s hatred fears to tread
We
walked quietly yestertime wishing we were
Practically
ruined sunlight in your front pocket
A
scent of laundered cotton and that dirty
Fragrance
remember that grungy aroma you
Became
a way of feeling eating an orange
As
if it were a sonnet penned by that ancient
Upstart
Shockspur O madam please put back
Those
half-sheathed claws yawn and stretch
And
purr for chrissake here where every day is
April
Fool’s and every night is Halloween yippee!
Let
me be a huckleberry and you could pick me
Up
after the show your eyes almost permanent
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